


Translating Sam

by ObsidianRomance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 21:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianRomance/pseuds/ObsidianRomance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean figures out Sam is pregnant before Sam does.  (Taken from spnkink_meme)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Translating Sam

People who don’t know him very well tend to think Dean is only good at two things: hunting and pool.

In reality, he’s more complex than that and quite frankly he’s sick of people writing him off as being a certain way.

The people who do know him, however, know he’s got a lot more tricks up his sleeve, none of them involving a pool cue.

What he’s best at, even better than hunting, is being able to read Sam.  It’s a skill he’s honed since Sam was born and even time away at Stanford couldn’t dull his ability.  Well, that’s not a hundred percent true but it’s the lie he likes to tell himself so he can try and forget about the times they’ve fallen out of sync with one another.

Currently though, he sometimes thinks he knows Sam better than himself.  Dean’s surprised himself on more than a few occasions but Sam’s surprises are predictable in their own way.

The way Sam moves, what he eats and even the way his jaw moves while he eats it, are all part of Sam that Dean has committed to memory.

He knows the sounds he makes and can translate them into English.  One snort can mean so much more.  He’s heard that forced exhale of air range from meaning, “Dean, you fucking goofball” to “Dean, you fucking asshole” to “Dean, fuck me harder or I’ll kill you.”  In Dean’s brain, all Sam’s noises translate so that they start with his own name.  It might be narcissistic but anyone who has met him and Sam know that most of their thoughts and actions revolve around each other, so at least his narcissism is steeped in truth.

Right now, Sam’s making a ton of retching noises behind the closed bathroom door that translate as, “Dean, I want to fucking die.”

It’s not the first time Dean has had to translate those noises.  In fact, he’s been keeping track of them.

He’s kind of overly smug about the fact that he seems to have a better handle on Sam’s body than Sam does himself – and he isn’t applying that fact exclusively to the handle he has on his brother between the sheets.

He knows Sam’s going to punch him if he comes out of the bathroom to see Dean smirking like some type of know-it-all, so he wipes the grin off his face just in time.  “Feeling sick?”

“Yeah, I…”  Sam runs a hand through his hair and shrugs.  “I guess I got a stomach bug or something.  Last week I was chalking this up to the food we ate but it keeps happening.  Plus, we had the same thing and you’re fine.”  His eyes narrow in confusion as his brain busies itself in searching for an answer.

Damn straight Dean is fine.  He hasn’t been on the receiving end of Sam’s dick in a long time and if Sam thinks there is a possibility that he and Dean could suffer from the same thing, then there are more supernatural forces at work than biology.  Sam is looking at him, completely lost for an answer and Dean figures he’ll play along for now.  “Yeah, you’re probably just run down.”  He laughs because he can’t believe how dumb his brother can be sometimes.

“What’s so funny?”  Sam doesn’t put much heat behind the retort in favor or yawning in a way that stretches his whole body out.

Dean knows a lot about Sam has been “off” lately, and his lack anger is another thing to add to the list.  Sam’s never missed a genuine opportunity to turn snarky on Dean unless he’s tired, which he clearly is.  Considering they woke up two hours ago, that makes little sense to Sam.  To Dean, however, he could have predicted it.  “Tired, Sammy?”

“Man, yeah…I dunno…I guess this _thing_ I’m dealing with is zapping my energy.”  With a heavy thud, Sam sits on the bed and looks up at Dean.

“Why don’t you take it easy for a bit while I go out and grab you something for whatever stomach bug you’ve got going on?”  Dean shrugs like the offer is no big deal so Sam doesn’t fight him on it.

“Yeah, okay.”  Sam instantly flops back so that his head hits the pillow.  He stretches, each limb reaching out and tensing for a moment before he lets them fall limp with a sigh.

Dean watches because he knows Sam’s going to scratch at his belly.  He almost always does after stretching like this so it’s no surprise when his fingers snag the bottom of his t-shirt and hike it up enough so Dean can see Sam’s stomach.

To any normal human being, Sam looks like Sam always looks.  To Dean, Sam’s middle looks pretty much the same but he knows it isn’t his brain playing tricks on him when he realizes that, while Sam’s stomach is still toned and flat, it looks softer.  Sam might have just realized it too because his fingers twitch against his belly and he makes a thoughtful hum but the snort he lets out afterwards cues Dean into the fact that Sam is brushing it off.

“I’ll be right back.”  Dean tugs on his jacket and shrugs once to settle it into place.  With a swift motion, he leans down to brush his lips against Sam’s and it met with both of Sam’s palms flat against his chest.  “Wha?”

“Dean, don’t.  I don’t wanna get you sick too.”  Sam turns his head away, avoiding his brother’s lips.

Unable to stop himself, Dean lets out a bark of laughter.  “I won’t get sick.  Trust me.”  He grabs Sam’s chin and holds it so that he’s forced to accept Dean’s kiss.  “You’re not contagious.”  He braves another kiss before Sam succeeds in swatting him away.

“How do you know?”  Lips pursed, Sam cocks his head at his brother.

“I just do.”

With a snort, Sam shakes his head.  “You don’t know everything.”

“No…I don’t.  But I know you.”  Without giving his brother a chance to argue, Dean makes it to the motel’s door in two long strides.  “Be right back.”

He doesn’t rush, even though Dean’s heart is hours ahead of himself.  He hasn’t felt this _light_ in a long time and he’s excited to figure out Sam’s reaction when his brother finally get clued in to the fact that he kinda does have a stomach bug…the kind that is less of a bug and more of a human.

The trip takes thirty minutes, total, including the five minutes Dean spent hovering outside the motel room trying to come up with an explanation as to why the can of ginger ale is sharing the plastic bag in Dean’s hands with five pregnancy tests.  The truth is he had no idea which test’s claims to being the most accurate were actually true.

He opens the door to see his brother resting with the crook of his left elbow covering his eyes.  Sam makes a “Dean, I’m gonna puke all over you” moan that Dean’s only heard a handful of times when Sam was still trying to figure out his alcohol tolerance.

“Still feeling like shit?”  Dean sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, I feel fucking fantastic.”  Sam moves his arm so he glare at Dean.

Dean pulls back in reaction to Sam whiplash inducing shift in moods.  “Easy, tiger.  Here.”  He fishes the ginger ale out of the bag and tosses it towards Sam.

Catching it, Sam mumbles a “thank you” under his breath.  He pops the top and takes a long swig, closing his eyes as he does so.  He opens them mid swallow and catches the fact that Dean is nervously twisting the hand holds of the plastic bag.  Pulling the can away, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?”  Dean shoves the plastic bag aside before pointing to his own chest and brushing Sam off with a laugh.  “N-nothing.”

“Bull.”  Sam cranes his neck to get a closer look at Dean.

This is one of the moments that reminds Dean he isn’t the only one to master the details that make someone else tick.  Sam’s just as much of an expert in his own right, only he knows Dean’s ins and outs.

Narrowing his eyes, Sam points.  “What’s in the bag?”  He reaches forward and snags it before Dean can shove it aside.  Eyes widening while he rummages through the contents, “Pregnancy tests?”

Dean laughs, which is the wrong move, but it’s hard not to find the disbelief in Sam’s voice hilarious.  His brother looks confused, like he can’t think of one good reason why they’d need one pregnancy test, let alone five of them.  He shakes his head and gives another laugh, weaker and muffled with an exhale before he turns his eyes towards his brother.  “Seriously, Sammy?  The thought hasn’t crossed your mind?”

“What thought?”

“Sam…you’re…well…it ain’t no food poisoning or stomach bug you’re suffering from.”  Dean laughs again when Sam keeps looking at him in wait for an answer.  This part he couldn’t have predicted.  Sam’s smart.  Really smart.  Apparently, he’s a little slow on the uptake today.  “You’re pregnant you big idiot.”

“I…”  Sam rolls the information around in his head for a moment of silence.  “No I’m not.”

Scoffing, Dean leans closer to his brother.  “Think about it, Sammy.  The throwing up, feeling tired, being a moody bitch for the past few weeks?”

“Jerk!  I’m not a bitch!”  Even in the middle of snapping at his brother, Sam seems to realize he’s just proved Dean right and he deflates a little.  Shaking off his ignorance, he looks up at Dean.  “Oh my god…”

“Kinda has nothing to do with him.”

“Oh my god!”  Sam practically falls out of the bed in an attempt to scramble off of it.  He grabs the plastic bag and storms towards the bathroom, slamming the door with too much force and shaking the frame.

Dean is left to sit on the bed, but he was ready for that.  He’s had a few weeks to process the information, Sam always needs his own space to do the same thing.  He’s lucky his brother didn’t do something completely ridiculous, like storm out of the motel room only to storm back in and repeat the action several times as if that would clarify anything.

He knew Sam would have a momentary freak out but he also knows Sam is going to have only positive reactions to the news.

A baby wasn’t planned, at least not now, but Dean figures that, in some ways, they never are.  He’s happy and over the last weeks he realized the feeling of lightness in his core that he can’t quite explain is accredited to the baby.  It’s fucking scary but far less than anything else they’d done.

They’d figure it out, just like they figured everything else out.

Sam emerges from the bathroom with wide eyes.  “I’m pregnant.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Dean has a little smirk on his face, lips curved up more on the right side.  His heart thumps faster because he’s got a soft spot for the adorably shocked face his brother is wearing.

“No…I’m…”  Sam turns on his heels and grabs a handful of used pregnancy tests. Despite the fact that it is impossible for Dean to read them from where he is sitting, Sam holds them up towards his brother.  “I’m pregnant.”

“I know, Sammy.”  Dean doesn’t need a test to tell him that but apparently Sammy does.  He looks at Sam’s hands and smiles wider.  “You took _all_ five of them?”

“Yeah…I…”  Licking his lips, Sam looks at the tests again.  Breathing picking up, he throws them to the floor like he can’t handle them.  “I…fuck…I…”

“Woah…Sam…”  Dean is off the bed in a minute.  He couldn’t have predicted the panic attack that Sam is clearly gearing up for.  His boot connects with a pregnancy test and it skids so that it ends up near Sam’s feet.  “Breathe, Sam.”

Eyes cast down, Sam focuses on the test Dean kicked his way.  He’s still breathing harder but something seemed to shift the moment Dean got close enough to him to share the same personal space.  He beans down and picks the test up.  It’s the kind the uses actually words in the results window rather than a symbol and the word “PREGNANT” is glaring at him.  “I…”

Dean takes the test and thinks seeing the word there is hitting him a little harder than expected as well.  It’s not bad but it is definitely intense.  He studies the word for a moment and contemplates at that it means.  When he smiles he makes sure Sam knows it is because of the word and not some attempt to keep Sam calm.  “Sammy, we're going to have a baby.  Well…you are, but it sure as hell better be mine.”

The joke brings Sam out of his thoughts and he gives a nervous laugh.  “Of course it’s yours!”  His anxiety makes him yell the declaration before he realizes Dean already knew that.  He goes silent and looks at the test again.

Biting his lip, Dean’s concerned that Sam is being so quiet.  “This…it’s….this is okay, right?”  Another thing, Dean thinks, that people always get wrong about him is that he has more say over what he and Sam do.  That’s not true at all.  He’d like to say it is fifty-fifty but Sam tends to be better at getting his way so there is really a slight sway in power in Sam’s direction.

“I dunno, is it?”  Sam refuses to remove his eyes from anything that isn’t Dean.

“Not really my choice.”  Dean tosses the test in his hand to join the rest and pulls Sam close enough so that their hips connect and he can wrap a hand around his waist.  With the other, he forces Sam’s chin up.  “I’ve been good with it over the last two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”  Sam’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Yeah, Sammy.  You’ve practically been a text book example which is….well…it’s reassuring actually.  I can’t believe I realized you were pregnant before you did.”

“You knew for two weeks?”

“Yeah.”  Dean scratches at the back of his neck and fidgets under the warm and fuzzy emotions he’s been trying to fight off in sake of his manliness.

Sam thinks for a long while.  He doesn’t speak but he does press more of his weight against Dean.  His lips twitch several times but stay relatively neutral.

“Sam…say something?”

Sam smiles once then then bites his lip.  “Boy or girl?”

“Huh?”  Dean’s had two weeks to wrap his mind around “baby”, he hasn’t quite gotten the courage to venture into “boy” or “girl” territory.  It leaves him looking less confident, which actually gets a laugh out of Sam.

“Boy or girl?  You knew I was pregnant, do you know if it’s a boy a girl?”  Sam’s smirk plows through the nervousness and Dean realizes his brother looks more like himself.

“Fuck, Sammy, I dunno.  I don’t care either.  I just want our kid.  I don’t care if it’s a she or a he.”  His fingers dig into Sam’s lower back and yank him so close they share the same air.  “I just want you to want it too.”  Nerves bubble over and Dean starts an internal wish for Sam to _please_ want the same thing.  He was so certain Sam would but now his brother is scaring him, proving that he can actually surprise Dean.

“Can we make it work?”

“If anyone should know that answer to that, it’s you.  We’ve figured out more difficult things in the past.  Of course we can make it work.”

“Then I want it too…I really…I’m surprised but…yeah, I want it.”  Sam’s brain is going a mile a minute, figuring out all the serious issues that go into parenting. 

That’s the part about Sam and Dean that everyone usually gets right.  Sam’s brain is more about the long term and planning.  Dean focuses on one step at a time.  He’s sure Sam is already predicting some problem, some issue, something that lead him to have an anxiety attack when he saw all the positive pregnancy tests.  Dean knows he focused on trivial things, like the fact that someone can call him dad and that Sam’s going to look good with his arms swallowing up their kid.  He’s stuck on the silly stuff because, maybe selfishly, he doesn’t want to deal with the scary stuff.  He swallows heavily, “You _do_ think we can do it, right Sam?”

Sam sighs, the “Dean, I’m sorry to worry you” sigh that he’s given way too many times.  “I do.  Really.  I do.”  His words are slow, each one punctuated with a pulse of emotion as he locks eyes with Dean.  They mean so much more than their outside appearance.  He tilts his head down and kisses Dean so hard it takes Dean’s breath away but they both need the gesture to help knock the nervous energy out as well.

When Sam doesn’t stop, when they both trip over themselves while stumbling towards the bed, Dean learns a new Sam sound.  It translates as something so cliché and ridiculous that he’ll never tell Sam what the moan leaving his brother’s mouth makes him think but he kinda loves it.  Sam moan’s again, giving the sound a hint of frustration and screaming, “Dean, you better suck your baby-daddy off or he’s going to kill you.”  And Dean hopes he keeps hearing that noise because it is so much better than any of the ones that end in “puke my guts out.”


End file.
